Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Her friends would never believe her if she told them, but Marinette loved mornings. She hated waking up, of course – she didn’t know which had been more cataclysmic for her sleeping habits, becoming Ladybug or becoming a teenager – but Marinette had fond memories of the mornings she’d spent with her parents before she slipped into a state of chronic sleep deprivation.

Marinette smiled as she settled onto a park bench. When she was little, one of her favorite things to do was to help her parents get the bakery ready for the day. They would rise before dawn; Papa would load the trays of dough into the big oven, Maman would frost the cupcakes, and Marinette would garnish the pastries with fruits and chocolates. An hour or two would go by, and then all three of the Dupain-Chengs would stop what they were doing. Together they would go out and sit in the park to watch the sunrise. Marinette would drink hot chocolate while her parents sipped coffee or tea, the birds would sing, the sky would brighten, and Paris would be golden and peaceful – just like it was today.

Marinette clutched at her hot chocolate and watched as the clouds turned pink and the silhouette of the Eiffel tower swam into view. It was just her and Tikki this morning – her parents were busy with an elaborate wedding cake order – but nothing, not even the creeping chill, could ruin her mood. It had been a great week for Marinette! There’d been a lull in homework and akuma attacks, and she’d finally gotten to catch up on her sleep and design work as a result. Poor Tikki, on the other hand, was already starting to feel the effects of the cold. She’d moved from Marinette’s purse to a more insulated pocket inside Marinette’s coat, where she spent most of her time napping. Marinette shivered a little and took another swig of hot cocoa, but it would be a little while more before the cold would affect her like it was affecting Tikki.

Said kwami was currently curled up in the space between her neck and her jacket hood, wrapped up in her pigtail like it was a blanket. Marinette raised a hand to shield her from a light breeze, and Tikki nuzzled her palm appreciatively. Marinette giggled. Sometimes, Tikki tickled. Suddenly she became aware of a second sensation tickling her hand.

“Huh?” She flipped her hand over. A familiar polka-dotted creature greeted her vision. “Look, Tikki – now there’re three ladybugs here!” The tiny bug inched up her finger, only to stop when another breeze blew. The wind was enough to push up the lady’s spotted elytra and rustle her sheer wings.

“You poor thing, you must be freezing too,” Marinette said. “Here,” she cupped the littlest ladybug between her hands. The ladybug puttered around her palm for a couple minutes. And then the ladybug flew away.

“Aw, it left,” said Marinette. She’d known it would eventually, but she couldn’t help feeling a bit sad.

“No, she didn’t, silly,” Tikki mumbled into her hair. “She’s right here.”

“Where? I can’t see,” Marinette said, trying to look at herself without moving too much.

“In your hair,” said Tikki.

Marinette took out her phone and switched the camera over to selfie-mode. Angling it this way and that, she finally found the ladybug. Now she could see, it was just above her bangs, settling in with the other five ladybugs already huddled there.

Marinette blinked.

“Tikki, there are more. There are six ladybugs in my hair, Tikki. Six.”

Tikki yawned and pulled Marinette’s pigtail around her tighter. “Seven. Plus you makes eight. Quelle chance, that’s a lucky number,” she murmured with a sleepy laugh.

After a moment, Marinette shrugged and accepted that there was a small colony growing on her head. It was hardly the weirdest thing that had happened to her since becoming Ladybug. Over the next half hour, Marinette sat very still, only occasionally reaching for her phone, to see how many ladybugs there were.  She could see from the corner of her eye as more and more came, until the top of her head was completely covered. They didn’t move much once they landed; they just snuggled against each other and, as far as Marinette could tell, went to sleep. It made her very happy to be part of a loveliness of ladybugs.

Marinette was content to stay there on the park bench, counting ladybugs, but soon enough her dad was outside holding her school bag and reminding her that she needed to leave soon.

“Okay, Papa! Coming!” Marinette sent several desperate glances at the ladybugs still on her head, at her papa waiting outside the bakery, and at Tikki, who was fast asleep.

“Ummm… aha!” She flicked her jacket hood over her head, tugging it carefully so that everyone was covered. Perfect!

Marinette exchanged her empty mug for her bag, hugged her papa goodbye, and headed on her Mari-way. For the whole walk, she reflected on the wonders of hoods. They were so warm and convenient! Why didn’t she wear them more often?

“Um, excuse me, Mme Bustier, but Marinette is totally breaking the dress code.”

Marinette froze. Oh fudge, she thought.

Mme Bustier sighed at the interruption from Chloe, but sure enough, when she looked over, Marinette was wearing a hoodie, a clear violation of Francois-Dupont’s school dress policy. Mme Bustier sighed.

“I’m sorry, Marinette, but I must ask you to put your hood down.” Mme Bustier wasn’t sure what reaction she expected from the class representative, but it was not the deer-in-the-headlights look she was getting.

“You heard her, Mari-Trash!” Chloe taunted, but she was cut off by her teacher.

“That’s enough, Chloe,” she scolded. She could safely say that much, though she wished she could say more.

Marinette was glaring akumas at Chloe. But, after a moment, she turned away and slowly lowered the hood…

“OMG!”

“Wicked!”

“Girl, how?!”

“That is totally sick, dude!”

“They’re so kawaii!”

Everyone seemed to have something to say about Marinette’s 300 closest (literally) new friends, except Max, who even with glasses couldn’t see what everyone was talking about from the far side of the room. For the most part, though, everyone seemed excited by the ladybugs presence except-

“EEEWWWW! Marinette has bugs in her hair!” Chloe shrieked.

“Quiet!” Mme Bustier had to drop a textbook on the desk to get everyone’s attention. “That’s enough from everyone,” she said calmly. “Marinette, why do you have a flock of ladybugs in your hair?”

“A loveliness,” Alya, Adrien, and Marinette all corrected at once. They glanced at each other in surprise before Alya explained, “It’s called a loveliness of ladybugs, Mme Bustier.”

Their teacher was surprisingly willing to roll with that. “Very well; Marinette, why do you have a loveliness of ladybugs in your hair?”

Marinette shrugged awkwardly. “I guess they just liked me? And they seemed kind of cold, you know, so….I just… heh.” She gestured vaguely, and Mme Bustier shook her head, though there was something fond in her expression. This was the second year she’d had Marinette in her class, and while the girl’s confidence had grown tremendously over the last year, there were still moments like these where she devolved into nervous stutters and flailing hand motions.

“Please go outside and come back to class when you aren’t covered in spots.”

Marinette nodded, although privately she thought that as long as Chloe was a student, she would often be covered in spots on school grounds. “Yes, ma’am.”

Marinette walked as smoothly and as quickly as she could home. Her parents were surprised to see her back so soon; Tom jumped in surprise when he saw them, while Sabine just rolled her eyes and giggled. They let her take the loveliness up to her balcony though, where she put an evergreen plant next to a warm vent. Then she coaxed the ladybugs out of her hair and onto its branches. Tikki helped nudged the last few off, and then Marinette was declared (more or less) ladybug free.

“Alright, time to go back to-” Marinette froze as a bright red dot drifted over her balcony railing. It flew towards her, hesitated in mid-air, then joined the rest of the ladybugs on the plant.

“Phew!” Marinette breathed a sigh of relief, then she held up a finger to Tikki.

“Pound it!” They chorused.

Chapter Text

Marinette stared at the drop of scarlet on the white jacket she’d been sewing in complete and utter bafflement. A beat later she became conscious of something streaming down her face.

“Gah!” She dropped the garment and pushed back from the desk just in time.

Tikki was already there. “I told you not to stress yourself out,” she chastised, holding up a tissue.

“I - is my noe bleeing?” She asked. It came out funny because the tissue Tikki was pressing to her face stuck to her tongue. Blegh. Blood and paper, double yuck! “Tikki?”

The kwami in question ignored her, nudging her head back, making shushing noises, and generally looking far too understanding.

“Tikki.”

The kwami twisted guiltily in the air. “This is another one of those ladybug traits I’ve been telling you about,” she admitted.

“Nose bleeds?” Marinette asked in disbelief.

Tikki actually giggled. The audacity! “Ladybugs don’t have noses, but they do bleed toxic substances from their joints when they need to scare away predators. It’s called reflex bleeding.”

Marinette groaned. “This is the most useless superpower ever.”

Marinette banged her head against the bathroom mirror. She had to settle for banging the back of her head, because the front was currently dripping blood everywhere.

Worst. Superpower. Ever.

Alya – sweet, supportive, Alya – was already there, holding out fresh paper towels. Marinette should have been grateful to have such a good friend, but at that moment all she could feel was exasperation that she was hiding in a bathroom when she should have been preparing for her date with Adrien (with Alya and Nino, at the Zoo, but still! Hanging out with Adrien!!!)

Marinette finally noticed that Alya could barely breath she was trying so hard not to laugh.

“What?”

“Girl… You really do have it bad. I never thought I’d see this outside of anime,” she crowed.

Marinette’s cheeks flushed, and unless she was imagining it, the gushing redoubled. Alya finally succumbed to her giggles.

“It’s not like that!” Marinette insisted.

“Sure it isn’t, girl.”

3 hours later

Ladybug stared at the giant T-Rex head protruding from the city-bus-briefly-turned-makeshift-cage.

Okay, scrap that plan.

“Hey!” Chat Noir shouted, as the massive dinosaur freed itself from the bus and loomed over them. “Since when do extinct animals count?”

Ladybug grabbed his wrist. “Run, before we go extinct!”

The dinosaur lunged, and the miraculous super duo sprinted out of the way, taking cover behind a car while Animan’s face was buried in the pavement.

“Lucky Charm!”

Out of a shower of sparks and lights that Animan miraculously didn’t notice, a car jack appeared in her arms.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Ladybug wondered.

“Maybe if you stand on it, you can make yourself look bigger and scare him away!”

“Ha, ha.” Chat Noir was always cracking jokes at her height, even though 164 cm was the exact average height for French women, and quite tall for a ladybug.

“I have a better idea – do you remember Meet the Robinsons?”

Immediately, Chat pulled in his arms in an imitation of a T-Rex and said in a deep voice, “I have a big head, and little arms.” He flailed his forearms around.

“Exactly! Use that to your advantage and make a distraction, then I’ll floor him!”

“Sounds like a good plan! I can be very – distracting.”

He waggled his eyebrows. She shoved him away.

ROAARRGHGHH!

“Eep!”

They sprung away from their hiding place milliseconds before it was crushed like a tin can.

Chat Noir jumped onto the T-Rex’s head and began running up and down his spine, stabbing his baton into soft spots and generally making a nuisance of himself. Animan thrashed and waved his stubby claws  around, but it must have been true that dinosaurs had pea-sized brains, because it didn’t occur to him to shift into a more agile animal.

Ladybug swung her yoyo low and circled around and around-

“Now!” She tugged the yoyo string tight, and Chat Noir jumped ship. The tyrannosaurus rex came crashing down onto the pavement.

The two superheroes surveyed the toppled tyrannosaurus from a safe distance. Ladybug still held the car jack in her arms.

“Well, that’s weird that we didn’t have to use this,” she said, looking down at the lucky charm. “What could it mean?”

Chat was unconcerned. “I guess it only means we rock as a team,” he said, already strolling towards the T-Rex.

Ladybug saw Animan’s eyes swivel towards them. His jaw loosened almost imperceptibly.

She gasped. “Chat, wait!” She tugged him back by the tail just before Animan’s teeth gnashed shut. They couldn’t get close to the Akumatized object on the dinosaur’s bony wrist as long as those massive jaws were free.

“I know what to do with this now,” she said, shifting her grip on the car jack.

She charged it head on. “Hey!! Pea-brain!”

The T-rex roared. Ladybug leaped.

It was dark inside the dinosaur’s mouth. Dark and very wet. There wasn’t room enough to stand.

Little shafts of light made it past the dinosaur’s crooked teeth. That was all Ladybug had time to notice before the ground rolled up beneath her – a giant slimy tongue trying to swallow her whole!

“Oh no you don’t!” She threw up her arms and pushed, wedging herself in place like a column. With one knee, she caught the car jack before it could disappear down the dinosaur’s throat.

Just as she was wondering how even she would manage to extend the car jack while preventing herself from being swallowed by a carnivore the size of townhouse, he stopped trying to swallow her.

Ladybug didn’t stop to question it. She righted the car jack and started pumping the lever; it quickly reached the roof of the dinosaur’s mouth. The massive tongue underfoot started moving again, but this time in the opposite direction, like he was trying to spit her out.

“That won’t work either big guy,” she thought, but did not say, because she could feel something wet running down her face, and the last thing she wanted to do was open her mouth.

The jaw creaked open. And a good thing it was too; it smelled revolting inside the mouth of the dinosaur.

The T-Rex thrashed his head around, but Ladybug went right on pumping the car jack, until his jaw could open no wider.

She hopped out.

Animan was shaking his head wildly and making gagging noises, but his teeth were no longer a hazard.

Ladybug dodged and broke off the akumatized bracelet no problem.

“Time to de-evilize!”

“Bye-bye little butterfly.”

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

And then the day was saved.

She held up a fist for her partner. “Pound i- oof!” She wasn’t expecting him to hug her.

“Milady,” Chat said tenderly. And then he abruptly pulled back. Probably because she smelled like 65 million years’ worth of bad morning breath.

“Wh-“ Chat started to say, looking at his hands and at her “Are you okay!?”

“Yeah, I’m fiii-ine? Oh shit, yikes.”

It was hard to notice, what with her bright red suit, but Ladybug was covered in blood, or something.

She was what smelled rancid. It wasn’t the dino breath, it was the blood-or-something seeping out of her suit. Out of her joints? Ewww, this was a thousand times worse than the nose bleeds. No wonder Animan had tried to spit her out. And she’d gotten some on Chat! This stuff wasn’t poisonous, right? It was just nasty-tasting, right???

“IpromiseI’mfineandI’lltellyoulaterkaybye!” She word-vomited like the total dorkasaurus she was, and then she zipped away.

“Okay, so it has it’s uses, occasionally, I guess.” Marinette admitted later, toweling her hair dry after her second shower. Did she have perfume anywhere? She could really use some perfume right now. And maybe a jambon-beurre—she was famished. “But like, how many of the previous Ladybugs ever jumped into the mouth of a tyrannosaurus rex?”

“None,” Tikki said, swallowing a piece of shortbread. “But there was an incident with a vampire once.”

They met at their usual spot on the Eiffel Tower that night. As soon as he saw her, Chat Noir ran up and hugged her. It was a much gentler hug than she was used to receiving from him, almost as if she were a delicate macaron he was afraid of handling.

“Ladybug!” He pulled away, scanning her for injuries. “Are you okay? You’re not bleeding anymore?”

“No, no – I’m fine. I wasn’t really bleeding. I mean, there was blood, and it came out of me, but I wasn’t bleeding-bleeding.”

Chat Noir gave her a wtf look.

“It’s like… this weird ladybug thing. A defense mechanism to ward off predators. I bleed when I’m stressed now, it’s super annoying, I don’t really want to go into detail.”

“So… just to be clear, you weren’t hurt and the akuma didn’t bite you?”

“No, I was just ‘reflex bleeding.’” She huffed, and her bangs flew up. “Don’t you have any feline side-effects to deal with?”

Chat Noir still looked worried, but his shoulders had relaxed a little.  

“Well, now that you mention it, I’ve become a pretty cool cat since I got my miraculous.”

“Chaaat,” she whined, though she couldn’t help but smile. He smiled back.

“Alright, yes, I also have weird cat behaviors now.”

“Go on.”

Chat paused to think about it. “You already know about the purring, right? But what you don’t know is that I also do it in civilian form.”

“You purr?” The look on Ladybug’s face was pure delight.

“Well, I hum. When I’m really happy, or really stressed.”

“I’d take humming over nose bleeds any day.”

“Oof, yeah,” He agreed. He briefly imagined what his father would do if he started bleeding all over the latest Agreste designs. Probably order Nathalie to arrange for a dry cleaner and reschedule the photo shoot session, which would inevitably end up on one of the few days he had plans to hang with Nino.

“I also keep finding myself fantasizing about boxes,” he said.

“You do not.”

“I do! Most of the time the boxes I find are too small for me. Ooh! Except for this one time, when I stayed after school for fen-“ Ladybug shot him a warning look “-nntastic extracurricular activities that I am in,” he saved. Nice. “There was no one in the locker room, so I just… curled up in my locker for fun, and I fit perfectly. It was great.”

Ladybug laughed so hard she snorted.

“Hey! It was really satisfying!” Chat Noir pretended to defend himself, grinning broadly. “I would 10/10 recommend trying it sometime, milady.”

Ladybug leaned into his side. “We ladybugs prefer snuggling to crawling into holes.”

“Cats enjoy snuggling too.” He wrapped his arm around her. They sat like that a while, watching over the twinkling city of Paris below.

“Promise me you won’t jump into any dinosaur jaws again?” He asked eventually.

“I’ll do my best to avoid it, kitty cat.”

Chapter Text

Lights. The photographer’s studio was full of them.

As a designer, Gabriel Agreste was keenly sensitive to color, texture, shape, lines, flow—

But in his recent collections, he was all about lighting. 

“Natalie,” he murmured, “make a note to center sequins in the new spring collection.”

Natalie hesitated. “.... Sir, the board wanted you to focus on expanding into the business professional sector next quarter.”

Gabriel waved her off. “Polished platinum accents then. Buttons and lapel bars for the boring men and women in gray suits. But sequins for the daywear line, and crystals for the evening wear.

“Of course,” she said, already tapping away on her tablet.

“Juliette!” Shouted Gabriel. “Shoot that sequence again, but with the blue accent lights. I want the organza overlay on that skirt to glow. Give post production a rim light that they can work with.”

There was a flurry of motion as, all around them, the photographers assistants rushed to rearrange the various lamps and reflector screens and flash umbrellas in the studio. Other, more junior assistants came to pick up the flower petals scattered on the set floor (these would need to be collected into a basket, so they could be dramatically thrown in the air again)  while hair and makeup descended on the model—Tatianna, or Trisha, or something like that. She was a ballerina—to make little fixes in between takes.

Just about the only people in the studio who weren’t in motion were herself and Adrien. The boy was quietly tucked into a corner with a textbook, something he often did when he had to miss school for modeling shoots.

The staff finished their preparations.

“Places!” shouted Juliette, the photographer. “Pietro, easy with the flower petals this time, I don’t want to stop to pick up flowers every three  shots. Tiffany, on the count of three, relevé and cambré. Okay, un, deux, trois! ”

Click. Click. Click.

“Fling the skirt out! Look over the shoulder!”

Click. Click-click. Click.

The photographer was shooting little glances at Gabriel in between poses, trying to gauge his approval. 

Natalie looked over at her boss. He was staring transfixed at a strobe light. She elbowed him.

“Uh, that’s beautiful, beautiful Juliette. But I fear that we’ve flooded the scene with too much light. We’ve lost the contrast, the intrigue, the shadow. Let’s have the lighting all come from one direction… think Rembrant and Vermeer, not Bouguereau. Also, Pietro, let’s leave the flowers on the floor, and throw glitter for this next one.”

“Glitter.” Juliette said flatly, already scowling. Her expression was mirrored by the model.

“Glitter,” said Gabriel firmly, leaving no room for argument.

The studio was thrown into a flurry once more.

Natalie sighed. She wondered if anyone else had caught on to the fact that Gabriel was toying with them. Not in any malicious way, but rather literally using the studio and its staff like a toy. This was the third lighting change Gabriel had requested, just for this dress; she had lost count of the number of additions, adjustments, and outright changes he’d made to the last six sets. Not that anyone was going to question the great Gabriel Agreste, especially when he’d pushed his last photographer to do work that ultimately won a Sony World Photography award.

Natalies supposed that playing with lighting during photoshoots was more productive than installing a light-show-and-water-jet fountain at the Agreste Mansion (something Gabriel had briefly considered and had her look into) even if it did end up eating extra time out of everyone’s schedules. 

Maybe for Christmas, Natalie could buy her boss a lava lamp. 

Chapter Text

Adrien sprinted up the steps to Francois Dupont, backpack slung over one shoulder, late note clutched tightly in one sweaty fist.

His dad had been even more of a perfectionist than usual when it came to photoshoots lately, fussing over lighting and angles to a degree he never had before his mom disappeared. The result was that his photoshoot that morning had stretched even later than normal, later than the late pass from Natalie indicated he’d be absent.

Now, he had missed lunch and would have to join the class in the middle of 4th period—Mme. Mendeleiev’s class. This sucked for two reasons:

1. Science was his favorite class. 
2. Mme. Mendeleiev hated tardiness.

Adrien didn’t stop running until he was just outside the classroom. Then he stopped and put his ear up to the door. Slowly, tentatively, he cracked open the door to the science lab and peeked inside; Mme. Mendeleiev had her back turned to the classroom and was lecturing and writing formulas on the board. Adrien opened the door just enough to slip in, tip-toed over to put the late pass on her desk, and scurried to his seat.

Shoulders hunched, he hurriedly pulled out his notebook and homework. He dug around in his bag—he couldn’t find his pencil, where-?

“ Monsieur Agreste . This is a science class, not choir practice!”

Oh. Oh no. He’d been humming again.

“Sorry, Mme. Mendeleiev,” he apologized.

The teacher sniffed and turned back to the board. He waited until she was back into the flow of the lesson to start gingerly rummaging around for a pencil again.

“ Psst. ” Nino elbowed him. In his hand was a spare mechanical pencil.

“Thanks,” Adrien mouthed.

He started rapidly copying down what was on the board, only for Mme. Mendeleiev to erase it and move on to the next topic.

“ Mmmm-- mmmmm- mmf!” Adrien started to hum in distress before Nino elbowed him again. 

Adrien bit down on his tongue. You could still hum with your teeth on your tongue, but it made it harder to do so accidentally.

Adrien, who had played piano for as long he could remember, had always been musically inclined. This wasn’t like that. Half of the time, he didn’t even realize he was humming. It was an unconscious thing, like breathing, or fidgeting, or picking at a scab. It wasn’t even pretty, melodic humming. Humming probably wasn’t even the right word—he was droning.

Plagg, as usual, had been totally unhelpful, which is why it had taken Adrien almost 4 months to realize that he was basically purring out of the suit.

“Yeah, duh,” the little kwami had said when Adrien shared his revelation. “My holders always take on cat traits, but humans can’t exactly purr. Didn’t I tell you that?” 

(Plagg had not told Adrien this.)

Knowing didn’t really make a difference anyway. Adrien hummed, whether he realized it or not, and he did it every time he felt stressed, or embarrassed, or worried. He hummed when he was comfortable and happy too, but that usually happened around his lady, when he could purr for real.

Mme Mendeliev was really rocketing through the lesson now, so Adrien took a deep breath and tried to keep up.

***

Poor Adrien, Marinette thought, not for the first time, later that day.

She was lying in bed with Tikki nestled in her hair and her chemistry homework (Mme. Mendeleiev had given them homework over the break, it was so unfair) spread out in front of her on the blanket, but she was finding it hard to concentrate. 

She knew how awkward and embarrassing it felt to be late to class, especially when it wasn’t even your own fault. Marinette would totally be on time more often if it wasn’t for that loser Hawkmoth. (She hesitated to call acclaimed fashion designer Gabriel Agreste a loser, but it was inconsiderate of him to make his son miss so much school.) Poor Adrien had continued humming under his breath all class. Marinette didn’t fully understand the humming thing, but she thought it might be a kind of stress-induced vocal stim, the same way she needed big movements when she got worked up about something.

Marinette hoped Mme. Mendeleiev would understand about the vocal stimming. She hoped she wouldn’t write a note to Adrien’s father, or get him in trouble; if she did, Monsieur Agreste might pull Adrien out of school forever, and then Marinette would never see him again, and they’d never get married and have 3 kids OR a hamster!

That’s what Marinette was thinking when her phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered miserably, so lost in her daydream that she hadn’t checked the caller ID.

“Marinette!” exclaimed a relieved voice.

“Adrien!” Marinette squeaked. “What called you?”

“Listen, I need your help,” said Adrien urgently, ignoring Marinette’s way with words. “I’ve gotten myself into a sort of predicament…”

***

Five minutes later, Marinette was standing outside the front doors of College Francois Dupont.

They were locked.

She scanned the street and windows of the school consideringly. She snuck into the school all the time as Ladybug, of course, but she didn’t want to get in the habit of using LB to do Marinette business. Besides, it would be weird if anyone saw Ladybug sneaking into a school after hours when there were no akumas around.

So, instead of yoyo-ing up and over, she shuffled along the side of the school to M. Monlataing’s classroom. She was in luck—the absent-minded art teacher had left the window open again.

Marinette hoisted herself through the window and crept inside. She made her way through the dark halls on tiptoe, stopping every so often to listen for footsteps, or the jangle of keys.

Nothing.

The boys locker room appeared to be totally empty when she reached it. It sure sounded occupied, however —like someone was having a hushed conversation in the corner.

“... Adrien?” she whisper-called.

Immediately the talking stopped. There was a loud clang, like the sound of sheet metal warping.

“Marinette?” came a muffled voice.

She rushed over towards the sound; she still couldn’t see anyone, but she could hear the little sounds of rustling when she knelt in front of Adrien’s locker.  “You weren’t kidding,” she breathed. “You really are trapped in a locker!”

“I know,” Adrien said glumly.

“Are you on the phone? I thought I heard voices.”

“Nope, it’s just me… talking to myself… while stuck in a locker...”

The padlock was lying on the floor next to the lockers, so at least he wasn’t locked in. Marinette tugged on the locker door:

It didn’t budge.

“How did you even get in there in the first place?” Marinette asked. Her first thought was that he’d been shoved in there by a bully, like in an American movie—except no, that wouldn’t make sense, because Chloe was the only bully around who might do something like that, and she liked Adrien.

“Well…”

“Actually, hold that thought! I’ll be right back, I promise!”

She ran back out of the locker room to the nearest janitor closet; she returned a few minutes later with a can of WD-40, a screwdriver, a wrench, 3-in-1 oil, and a hammer for good measure. (Unfortunately, the school janitor didn’t have a crowbar.)

“Okay, I’m back. Tell me everything!”

“I was kind of having a bad day,” Adrien admitted. “And I got permission from my father to hang out with Nino after fencing today.”

 “But Nino’s family is going to Morocco for fall break,” Marinette interrupted. “They fly out tonight.” It was strangely easy to talk to Adrien like this. Maybe it was because she couldn’t see him, but maybe it was because she was focused on a task! She hoped it was the latter, because she liked seeing him. Which she could do again, once she got him out. 

Focus! , she thought, and picked up the nearest tool: a wrench. She peered at the locker consideringly, but unlike with her lucky charms, no immediate uses for a wrench jumped out at her, so she put it down. 

“Yeahhhhh.” Even through the locker door, Adrien sounded embarrassed. “I know that, but I forgot Fall Break started tomorrow.”

Marinette picked up a screwdriver. She would unscrew the hinges!

“So after fencing practice, I didn’t have anywhere to be, and I thought I’d curl up in my locker.”

“You went in there on purpose? !” she cried, momentarily derailed.

“It’s cozy…” Marinette, ever attuned to all things Adrien, picked up on the slightly defensive note in his voice. “I like to curl up in small spaces, sometimes, I dunno.”

Marinette considered this, trying to relate even though she didn’t see the appeal. “Like a cat in a box,” she said.

“HEH. Heh heh. YEP. Like a cat, or a- or a squirrel, or a stoat. Lots of animals like to hole up in weird places.

Unscrewing the hinges wasn’t working; there wasn’t much for the screwdriver to grab on to. She switched tactics and grabbed the WD-40.

“Why me?” she asked eventually, when she had sprayed the hinges, the edges of the door, and even the little bar where the padlock should go.

“Pardon?”

“Why did you call me for help?” she said, voicing the question she’d been wondering since he’d first called her that afternoon.  She picked up the last tool in her arsenal, and started trying to pry open the door with the back end of the hammer.

“Don’t be offended, but… you have a lot of quirks. So I thought, if anyone would be understanding of my quirks, it’d be you.”

A warm feeling spread through Marinette’s chest. A second later, the locker door sprang open, and Adrien tumbled out.

He blinked up at her, blinded by the light.

Marinette grinned down at him, still basking in the idea that she and Adrien had something in common.

“Yeah, I understand having a few quirks,” she said, as she helped him up.

Adrien surprised her then by hugging her.

“Thanks Marinette!” he said. “You’re the best!”

Marinette blushed a brilliant, cochineal red. 

Oh my god, keep it together Mari, she thought. No nose bleeds!

He was still hugging her.

“It nothing!” She squeaked, and then mentally kicked herself.

Adrien was quirky. She was quirky. She’d just freed him from a trap of his own making and was still holding the hammer. They were both two quirky dorkasauruses, and she could speak in complete sentences to him. With no nose bleeds.

He finally let go, and instantly she missed his arms around her.

“It you- If you want, we could go back to my house,” she said.

Adrien smiled his wonderful, soft-boy smile at her. “I’d love to, Marinette.”

They chatted amicably as they walked out of the school together. A thought occurred to Marinette right before they reached the bakery.

“Hey Adrien, have you ever built a blanket fort before?”